“Well, it doesn’t matter. Tell him nothing is for sale.”
Gabriel hesitated for a moment. They had offered an enormous price, although she was right, and if she put a painting of Lorenzo’s in a current auction, it would bring even more. But the prospective buyer knew that too. It was a shrewd initial bid. “I think you should discuss this with Theo,” Gabriel said quietly. He thought her son should at least know, but he had wanted to call Maylis first, and if the painting in question was on display in the house, it belonged to her. But Theo would give her good advice, and Gabriel was tempted to encourage her to sell it, to establish a new value for Lorenzo’s work, which would inevitably be higher than what had been established before. He was prepared to negotiate for more if she agreed to sell, and told her which one the offer was for.
“That painting doesn’t belong to Theo. And he doesn’t want to sell anything either. We don’t need the money, and I’m not giving up any of Lorenzo’s paintings.” She had a modest lifestyle, and made a handsome living with the restaurant, aside from what Lorenzo left her.
“Just let Theo know. I’d be interested in hearing his opinion,” Gabriel said gently. He never pushed her, or forced her to do anything. He advised her.
“All right, I’ll tell him,” she said grudgingly, and went on to discuss other things of more importance to her, like their margin on great wines at the restaurant. She wanted to know if Gabriel thought they should raise their prices. He advised her on everything, and she relied on him to be there for her. She followed all his suggestions, except about selling her late husband’s work, at least from time to time, but before they hung up she promised again to call Theo. She finished what she was doing with the restaurant ledger, and then called her son.
As always, he took forever to answer, which meant he was painting. He sounded totally distracted when he picked up the phone and said, “Yes?” He could see that the call was from his mother, and he just hoped she wasn’t asking him to work at the restaurant again that night, and that Jean-Pierre was in good health and back at his post as ma?tre d’. “I’m painting.”
“Obviously. When aren’t you? Gabriel told me to call you. I’m sorry to interrupt.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No, everything’s fine. He had a call from an attorney in London, representing an anonymous private collector, who wants to buy one of my paintings.”
“Did you tell him it’s not for sale?” Theo couldn’t see the point of the call, and he hated losing his train of thought while he worked. For him, painting was an intense business.
“Gabriel knows that. Apparently they’re offering our last Christie’s price, which is too low now anyway. But Gabriel thought you should know. And he said he could negotiate a higher price if we want to sell, which I don’t.”
Theo hesitated for a moment before he answered, and frowned.
“That was an inflated price at the time, driven up by a bidding war between two buyers. They paid a lot more than they should have.” Still, Maylis and Theo had been pleased with the result at the time. “And this anonymous buyer is willing to match that as an opening bid?” He sounded surprised.
“That’s what Gabriel said. I told him to turn it down, but he wanted me to discuss it with you first.” Theo could understand why. It was an enormous price for his father’s work, and would prove its market value, even more so if the buyer would go higher.
“Maybe we should think about it,” Theo said quietly. “And see how much Gabriel can get, and how badly this buyer wants it.”
“I’m not going to sell it,” she said with steel in her tone. “It’s one of the first paintings your father painted of me, when I was still just his model.” And suddenly, when she said it, as he thought about it, Theo realized which one. It was the painting Vladimir Stanislas had been fascinated by at the restaurant the night before.
“I think I know who the buyer might be. Stanislas was mesmerized by it last night.” And he remembered his irritation that it wasn’t for sale, and his comment that everything had a price. “If it’s him, you could probably negotiate with him and ask for more. I don’t think he’s familiar with the word no, and if he wants it badly enough, he’ll pay any price.”
“It’s not for sale,” Maylis repeated, digging her heels in. “I don’t care what he offers.”
“It might set a new benchmark for Papa’s prices, and set the bar even higher than it is now, after the last time.”
“What difference does it make if we don’t want to sell any?”
“You might want to one day, and it’s always good to take the temperature of the current art market. Gabriel always says that it’s good to sell one from time to time. And Papa painted better paintings of you than that one, like the ones of you once you were together.” His love for Maylis and for his son had shone through every painting after that. “This might be a good one to sell,” Theo said thoughtfully.
“The answer is no.” She was incredibly stubborn at times, especially about her late husband’s work.
“It’s up to you, Maman. But I think I’d negotiate with them and see what you get.” It was good advice, and Gabriel would have said the same.
“I told Gabriel to turn the offer down.” She confirmed that to him five minutes later, after she and Theo hung up. Gabriel was faintly disappointed that she wasn’t willing to listen to him or her son.
“I’ll tell them,” he said quietly. He knew better than to argue with her about Lorenzo’s work. And he called the attorney in London shortly after and declined.
He was looking over images of some of the new work Marie-Claude had taken in, marveling at her eye for contemporary work, when the attorney in London called again, and offered a considerably higher price. Gabriel managed not to sound shocked, although he was. Clearly, the anonymous buyer was willing to pay any price to acquire the work. He was offering fifty percent more than the price set at the Christie’s auction. It was an extremely handsome offer. Gabriel promised to relay it to the artist’s widow. But when he did, Maylis sounded stubborn. She wouldn’t even agree to call Theo this time.
“This is an extraordinarily high price.” He tried to reason with her. “I don’t think you should turn it down, Maylis. It establishes an astronomical level for Lorenzo’s work in the current art market.”
“I don’t care. It’s not for sale.”